


Goddamn Teddy Lupin

by Huntswoman



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-03
Updated: 2015-04-05
Packaged: 2018-03-21 01:32:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3672525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Huntswoman/pseuds/Huntswoman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Teddy gets beat up and Victoire is his knight in - er- wrecked mascara armour?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> (Rated teen for some very mild language)  
> A bit of humorous fun, headcanons abound. :)

“My Dad was a werewolf, fight me!” As soon as the words were in the air and the wands flicked out like switchblades, Teddy Lupin regretted them. “Now, lads, I was - _of course_ \- speaking strictly in the metaphorical sense. You know. Colloquialisms and all that. Fight me is slang, really. A jovial term for light-hearted arguments. Between friends.”

“Too late, mutt.”

“Oh Merlin’s beard, really? _Really?_ I was just gonna let it slide, but you had to go and use the bloody M word, didn’t you?” Teddy rolled up his sleeves, baring corded muscle and assorted tattoos. “Here we go then.”

**

Vic heard a groan. A loud one. Followed by, if she wasn’t mistaken, several appalling curse words. She really ought to hurry on; it was well past midnight and the slow-burning candles pooling light on Diagon Alley’s cobblestone streets were beginning to wither. Moreover, she was in no fit state to be helping _anyone_ – not only had she just had a her heart unceremoniously bat-bogey-hexed to oblivion, but her mascara had been ruined in the process, and she was well aware that the black streaks down both cheeks made her a terrifying sight to behold. Her heels clacked unsteadily on. Then, as she was almost past the dark alleyway behind Flourish and Blotts, a very tiny, very feeble “Help me” reached her ears. Indecision obliterated, she turned where she stood and into the alley, only to find-

“Teddy _goddamn_ Lupin! What the hell have you gone and done to yourself this time?”

“Oh shite. Not you.”

“Yes. Me. Looks like I’m all you’ve got.”

“Yeah. What happened to your face?”

“What happened to my-!? Are you not aware that you’re lying in a _puddle_ of what I can only assume is your own stupid blood?! And that your legs are tied to a _drain pipe?!_ ”

“You’ve ruined your make-up.”

“That’s it. I’m leaving. You stay here and rot.” Contrary to her words, she crouched down next to him and let out what could easily have been the most exasperated sigh that had ever been let out, and asked, “How many were there?”

“About ten.”

“How many really?”

“Two. Have you been crying?”

Vic ignored him and wrestled with the twine that bound his boots to the leaking pipe. “Is this knotted? Or did they hex it?”

“Just knotted. I think. None of them were casting spells.”

“Weird.”

“Not really. I think they were still in school.”

Vic couldn’t help but smile as she yanked the knot free. “Mister Invincible Teddy Lupin got beat up by a bunch of kids!”

“Least I didn’t cry about it. What happened to you? Break a nail? One of those muggle boybands you love break up?”

Vic glared. “No. Can you get up? Are you bleeding badly?”

“Bleeding? I’m not-“ Teddy followed Vic’s gaze to the red puddle spreading around them. “-Merlin’s _beard._ I’m bleeding badly.”

“Where does it hurt?”

“Everywhere.”

“Where particularly?”

“ _Everywhere!”_

“I’m just trying to help! Shouting at me won’t achieve anything!”

“Well I’m sorry! I don’t see _you_ lying in a pool of your own blood!”

“Just- just turn over, into the light!”

“How?! I’m probably _dying_ Vic!”

“Just do it! I need to see the wound!”

“The _wound?!_ ” Teddy whimpered, and rolled pitifully to one side. Vic’s eyes darted the length and breadth of his body, right up to his shocking blue hair, and inexplicably started to laugh.

“Oh god. Oh god is it that bad? You’re hysterical, aren’t you? That’s it. I’m going to die. Here. All alone in the alley behind a glorified school supply shop because of my big fat mouth. I didn’t even collect all the chocolate frog cards. I had six Professor Snapes. _Six._ I was going to trade them for a Longbottom. Are you even listening to me? I WAS GOING TO TRADE MY CHOCOLATE FROG CARDS-“

Vic was positively cackling. Out of breath, all she could do was point to the damp box that Teddy was lying on.

“What are you- you crazy bitch, I’m _dying_ -“

“LOOK!” She forcefully turned his shoulders to the box. And there, a little crumpled but nonetheless legible, in capital letters, shining under the lamplight, was written RED INK, FOR QUILLS.

“Oh.”

Vic’s laugh could be heard in every house still awake in the whole of Diagon Alley. Long minutes of laughter passed.

Eventually, Teddy asked, “Are you quite done?”

“Yes- wait- _no-_ “ And she erupted into titters. “Alright. Okay. I’m good now. I- _youthoughtyouweredying-“_ And she laughed some more.“Okay. I’m good. How about you? You good? Any last requests? Chocolate Frog cards you want me to-to _trade in!_ ”

“Alright. Yes. Funny. Let’s laugh at Teddy. Let’s laugh at Teddy getting beat up by some kids and confronting his own mortality. Laugh it up Vic.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I really am. You’ll laugh about it too, one day. Can I help you up? Does it still hurt _everywhere_?”

“Yes. But I’ll try and-“ With an almighty lurch, Teddy heaved himself unsteadily upwards. Vic was there to catch him, slipping her tall frame under his arm. “-and get up.”

“Where you staying, then?”

“Staying? I live here.”

Vic regarded the alleyway. “Oh. Not very nice, is it?”

“Not _here_ you mountain troll. I meant I live in Diagon Alley. Two flats down from the Leaky Cauldron.”

“I thought you lived up in Godric’s Hollow?”

“Not for years.”

“Years?” Vic stopped walking. Teddy smiled in spite of himself.

“Alright, not for months.”

“Months?”

“Weeks.”

“Weeks?”

“Yes! For weeks. Two of them. Well. I moved the week before last.”

Vic shook her head and they hobbled along the quiet street.

“You know, Vic. You still haven’t told me why you were crying.”

“Sorry. Too busy trying to save your life.”

“Well you’ve done that now. And did a _stellar_ job of it, if I say so myself. As far as life-saving attempts go, an absolute Outstanding. You didn’t even laugh at me. Not once.”

Silence fell.

“Really though,” Teddy said quietly, “Are you okay?”

“Fine. Apart from the five hundred kilos of half-werewolf I’ve been conned into carrying home.”

“Five hundre- is that a fat joke?” Teddy pretended to sound offended. Inheriting his mother’s traits meant his body was always as he wanted it. Which, being at a stage in his life where he wanted to be attractive to as many people as possible, made him a veritable Adonis. “Is it boy trouble?”

Vic’s stony glare was an obvious _yes._

“You know, I could beat him up for you.”

“No you couldn’t, Teddy” Vic said wearily.

“Alright. Point taken. But I do know some kids who pack a mean punch.”

As he flashed her a brilliant grin, Vic couldn’t help but notice that two of his teeth were missing.

 


	2. My Mum yells at me in French

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So many headcanons all up in here. Just a bit of Weasley cousin banter and scene-setting :)

Victoire Weasley’s phone was abuzz with messages. Now, wizards weren’t supposed to have phones. Or any kind of new-fangled, genuinely-useful modern technology. Victoire had never been particularly interested in what wizards weren’t supposed to do. A childhood spent travelling the globe for her father’s work with Gringotts had made for a grown witch far more open-minded than most. Without muggle technology, how in the hell would she keep in touch with friends and family scattered across the world? Or, more importantly, Instagram pictures of her owl? Or, most important of all, take _selfies?!_

There was also the small matter of muggle boys. Vic loved muggles in general; obviously, they were streets ahead of wizards in both technology and style. But the _sports_ the boys played- none of this messing around on broomsticks. Oh no. They ran around parks, shirtless, wrestling each other for possession of a pointy quaffle. Vic didn’t understand the rules, but she’d seen enough to be an avid supporter. It was one-such ‘Ruggy’ player that was blowing up her phone. The same waste of man-flesh that’d left her in tears last night. He was, in effect, trying to explain that his tongue being down another girl’s throat was somehow _her_ fault. Normally, Vic would laugh it off, but she’d been falling for this boy. Or, she’d thought she had. Now she resolved to tell herself that shirtless muggle boys were everywhere, and made mental notes to pass by the park later.

“Your phone’s going off”

Vic’s head snapped up to see brown, freckled skin and a head of thick hair, shaved on one side.

“Oh, Merlin’s beard you startled me, Rosie!”

“Who is it?”

“Nobody-“ Rose had already yanked the phone away.

“Aaron. Oh! Is this the Aaron that you’re seeing? The Rugby player? Is he sending you luurve messages?”

“Give it back.”

“He- oh.” Rose’s face fell as she read the texts. “Oh. I’m sorry, Vic. Here.”

“S’alright.”

“Plenty more owls in the owlery, as they say.”

“Who- _who_ says that?”

“Me. Just then.” Rose pulled out one of the Leaky Cauldron’s ancient chairs - with an almighty screech on the floorboards – and sat opposite her cousin. “Guess what happened to me yesterday”

“What?”

“Guess!”

“You got into trouble for house-elf activism again?”

“That was one time!”

Vic couldn’t help but laugh. “No, it wasn’t. Didn’t you almost get expelled when you stormed the Hogwarts kitchens for the _third_ time?”

“Not what I came to talk about! Yesterday! Guess what happened! Actually, don’t, you’ll never guess, I’ll just tell you because I’m positively _bursting_ from excitement- I mean oh-my-god, you are going to flip your _shit_ -“

“Tell me.”

“I GOT SELECTED TO BE GRYFFINDOR QUIDDITCH CAPTAIN I MEAN CAN YOU IMAGINE I AM SO PROUD I AM CARRYING ON THE FAMILY TRADITION OF QUIDDITCHAL EXCELLENCE I THOUGHT DAD WAS GONNA CRY WHEN I TOLD HIM I’M SO EXCITED VIC BE EXCITED WITH ME!”

Vic had never been able to keep up with Rosie’s excited outbursts. “You- you got made Quidditch Captain?!”

“YES!!” And she launched herself across the table to hug Vic. Patting her younger cousin’s back as she was smothered in curly hair, it transpired that Aaron and his lying, cheating, pointy-quaffle-chasing shirtless form was utterly forgotten.

“Well done Rosie!” Vic laughed. “You little champion!”

“Oh MERLIN is she going on about the bloody Quidditch Captain thing AGAIN?!” James Potter slumped down next to Vic on the worn out bench, taking off his cloak and shaking out his sodden red hair as he did so.  “She hasn’t shut up about it for _forty-eight-hours._ Can you please tell her that whilst we’re all very happy for her, we’d rather be happy for her _quietly.”_

“Bugger off James!” Rosie let go of Vic to wack him round the head. He laughed, and was still laughing when she made to lift up the nearest chair.

“ROSE JEAN NYMPHADORA GRANGER-WEASLEY, PUT THAT CHAIR DOWN THIS INSTANT!”

“Oh _Mum,_ he started it!”

“I don’t care who started it young lady –“ with a flick of the wrist, Hermione Granger had levitated the chair from her daughter’s grasp and had it suspended in the air between them “- violence is _never_ acceptable, and, more to the point, your Grandpa Weasley will be in at any moment, and I’m sure he is expecting his granddaughter to be every ounce the well-mannered, intelligent young lady he knows her to be. And I for one would _hate_ him to be disappointed _on his birthday!_ ”

“Alright, alright! But you didn’t have to use my full name.”

Hermione dropped the chair with a soft thud and smiled fondly, tucking a curl gently behind Rose’s ear. “Dear, the only reason your father and I gave you a long name was so it’d sound scarier when we told you off. May as well make use of it occasionally.”

“My mum yells at me in French when I’m in trouble, count yourself lucky, Rosie.” Vic said, having learned long ago that the best way to diffuse family tension was to poke well-meaning fun at her mother.

As she laughed along with the others, she could’ve sworn she saw a shot of blue hair pass by the rain-drenched windows. Odd, that Teddy should be leaving when Arthur was due to arrive. Was he not invited? Or was he simply just not coming, having better, cooler things to do? Could he be avoiding her? Immediately, she was cross at herself. She’d just been in tears over one boy, the very last thing she needed was to latch onto another. Least of all, when that boy was Teddy Lupin.No, she didn’t care about him. Let him go where he wanted, it made no difference to _her._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes, I made Rose's middle name Nymphadora. I felt like it made sense, and I can imagine Tonks cackling if she was alive to see her much-hated first name being used as a disciplinary tool :)  
> There's a chapter from Teddy's perspective up next.


	3. Dangerous Thinking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Teddy takes a walk in the rain, looking back on his relationship with Victoire.
> 
> (trigger warning for minor mention of drug use, just to be safe)

Teddy was struggling to light up in the rain. Obviously, wizards weren’t supposed to smoke. But, if the massive billboards in Piccadilly Circus were anything to be believed, muggles weren’t supposed to smoke either, and they seemed to have no problem with it. The rain fell fast and heavy and grey, pooling around his lace-up boots in rivulets that ran slick over cobblestones and gurgled down the drains. A cab zoomed past, splashing water in its wake and soaking Teddy’s knees. As edgy and fashion-forward as his ripped jeans looked, Teddy was beginning to realise they weren’t at all practical in the damp London gloom.

 He loved muggle London. The sheer size of it dwarfed Diagon Alley into quaint obscurity; and the pure anonymity of being one in a faceless crowd of thousands was something to be cherished. Here, nobody looked twice at his blue hair and gaping ear stretchers. Nobody’s gaze lingered on the phases of the moon tattooed across his collarbones. And not one person pitied him.

There’d been a time when the Tonks and the Potters alike had urged him to change his hair when they were in the muggle world, but in recent years it had become clear that blue hair was practically the _norm_ in muggle England, and, despite the odd tut of disapproval from Grandma Tonks, Teddy’s hair was there to stay.

His lighter sparked a final time then fizzled out completely.

_“Bollocks”_

He chucked it down the nearest drain in frustration and strode head-first into the downpour. Today was Arthur Weasley’s birthday party. He didn’t plan on going - despite the fact he loved Arthur dearly and had bought him a fairly expensive present of muggle gold clubs– largely due to a certain blonde Weasley that would be in attendance.

Teddy’s mind wandered as he walked. There’d been that day – years ago – at King’s Cross. He was a mess.  Even looking back, he couldn’t remember exactly _what_ he’d been coming down from, he just knew everything was foggy and his head had hurt like a bitch. He’d promised to see the kids off to Hogwarts – it was little Alby’s first year. Weeks before he’d been so excited, tearing at the bit to show his favourite little cousin the ropes, to help him pick out his textbooks, and his _wand._ It still stung thathe never saw Albus get his wand. That September marked the culmination of a year-long downward spiral. It was so easy to say he’d fallen in with the wrong crowd, or use the age-old _I’m an orphan, it’s not my fault._ Both of which he said at the time. But he was older now. And he knew, that September morning, when Victoire rose like a vision out of the billowing steam, her blonde hair glowing like a halo and her freckles scattered like soot, that it was not a sign. That it was not his salvation. That even at the time, he didn’t truly believe that. He was stupid. And selfish. His quest for destroying himself didn’t care who got hurt in its wake.

He remembered Vic’s little face afterwards. She’d been so trusting, so warm, so kind. And when he said “Er, thanks. See you round.” – the very thought of it had him cringing even now – and _patted her on the head,_ he knew she was lost to him forever.They certainly hadn’t known each other well before that day - she’d always been travelling and he always awkward – (or drunk, as had been the case at the Weasley Christmas Party the year before), but afterwards, their interactions were strictly one-syllable encounters. What made the whole thing worse was the fact the kids had seen, and for months afterwards wouldn’t stop going on about it.

And now last night’s debacle. He kept telling himself it was normal, what she did. Utterly normal. They knew each other, after all, why _wouldn’t_ she help a man tied to a drain pipe, covered in bruises and lying in a puddle of what –at the time – appeared to be his own blood? It’s just something friends do. _So was that what they were now? Friends?_ He shook his head, sending raindrops flying. It wasn’t like he _cared._ It wasn’t like he _cared_ how much he’d acted like an idiot, ranting and raving about dying and his bloody chocolate frog cards. It wasn’t like he was _embarrassed. But then-_ a little voice sprung up in the back of his mind- _if he wasn’t embarrassed, why was he avoiding her? And, if he really didn’t care, why couldn’t he stop thinking about her?_

He shook his head again. Now _that_ was dangerous thinking. Boy, did he need a smoke.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know the way I've framed the King's Cross kiss isn't exactly the norm for the fandom, I just felt like playing with the dynamics to add a little angst to their relationship. Basically, I've tried to write them as acquaintances who had crushes on each other and who kissed (a couple of years ago) when Teddy was in no fit state to do so, hence the cold greetings in the very first chapter. Also, just want to add that Teddy is my forever fave ;_;


End file.
